A Drarry Fic
by Agnes Valar
Summary: I am sorry for the title, I couldn't think of anything mind-blowingly epic yet. Draco x Harry, no smut, oneshot *really really short oneshot* Rated T because of mild language.


A/N

So this is for a lovely friend of mine, Slytheringoddess7. Happy birthday, and I'm sorry it's so late, and short. Also, in my haste to publish it, I kind of just skimmed it when editing so there might be some mistakes. I'd make it more fantabulos if I could, honestly! All the same, I hope you enjoy it!

(P.S. yes I am still working on my other story, I promise. It's just really, really slow.)

Harry Potter didn't understand how he could _possibly_ have been sorted into Slytherin. What would Sirius say? Harry knew that Sirius probably (hopefully) wouldn't care what House Harry was sorted into- Because Harry was Harry, no different than he had ever been.

Sirius Black had raised his godson to firmly believe, with every fiber of his soul, that the Purebloods that disregarded the importance of Muggles and Muggle- born witches and wizards were practically as wrong in their beliefs as it was possible to be. Most of them, Sirius had told Harry, even went so far as to hate Muggles and Muggle- borns. And a great many of these wizards either were or had been in Slytherin at Hogwarts. It was for this reason that Harry had such an aversion to Slytherin House.

He sat through the first feast of the year right after the Sorting in gloomy silence next to a boy who wouldn't shut up about something Harry didn't give two shits about. After listening in for a few moments, he deduced that the boy was talking about school Qidditch teams.

"Father says I should be allowed to be on the House team and that I'd surely put Slytherin in first place every time..."

Harry pushed his potatoes around his plate nervously.

Eventually the feast ended, and everyone was escorted to their dormitories. The Slytherin Common Room turned out to be in the dungeons, which Harry may or may not have found extremely cool. Everyone was chattering on about how Neville Longbottom (the one and only!) was sorted into Gryffindor, big surprise. Harry chose not to join in on the conversations. He silently rode the stream of first years to the dormitories, and then made his way to the boy's dormitory along with the others. In his dorm were four other first year boys- Vincent Crabbe, Gregory Goyle (both looked like they were dumber than a chicken with a Confundus charm cast on them, but what they seemed to lack in brain they definitely made up for in brawn), Blaise Zabini, and Draco Malfoy, the boy who Harry had sat next to during the feast.

"Hey, you there," said Draco in a lazy drawl. "What's your name?" He held out a graceful, pale hand for Harry to shake. Cautiously, Harry took it.

"Harry Potter," and, though he already knew the answer, asked, "Yours?"

"Malfoy. Draco Malfoy. Pleased to meet you."

 _Le Time Skip, and ahead a couple (five) years we go!_

Harry and Draco had grown together over the two years they had known each other. Now they were in their sixth year at Hogwarts and were best friends. (Sirius had ensured Harry in the first letter he sent to his godson that he would love Harry no matter what House he was sorted into.) Harry never said so, but he was becoming madly jealous of Pansy Parkinson, Malfoy's girlfriend. It almost made him sick to walk to classes with his best friend now, since Draco always had _her_ tagging along these days. She was so sappy and very close to Draco, it seemed, and... And Harry was discouraged by her relationship with Draco. He was jealous alright... and extremely and undeniably in love.

- _Draco's point of view_ -

I couldn't deny that I was becoming significantly less interested in Pansy by the day. I found myself becoming more and more distracted by someone else. The odd thing was, I couldn't put my finger on _who_. Not for a while, anyway.

About a third into the school year, I realized who I loved so much more than the girl I had promised the moon to months before.

It was slightly hard for me to break up with her- But only slightly. The Sorting Hat _did_ say that Slytherins will go to any lengths to achieve their means, didn't it? Isn't that what I was doing? I told her that my love for her was waning. I told her she deserved better. Really, though, I just won't settle for anything less than what I want. And what- or _who_ , to be more precise- I wanted was Harry Potter. Badly.

- _Harry's point of view-_

Draco had asked Harry to meet him in the Room of Requirement at half- past three. They both had that time off, and this was urgent.

So there Harry sat in the room they had, over the years, adjusted and modified so that it fit their needs almost perfectly. There was even a couple of beds and couches and a fireplace, among the other miscellaneous things they had stolen and/or hidden. Harry had situated himself on the bed he used with a pile of comics (wizard comics, of course).

Draco was only a couple minutes late, and looked very nervous when he did arrive.

"Right then," Harry asked as soon as the pale boy slipped off his shoes next to Harry's. "What's so important that you actually had to leave your precious Pansy to talk to me alone?" He couldn't keep at least a tiny bit of spite out of his voice, and Draco noticed.

"I've broken up with Pansy," he said. "I love someone else."

Harry's heart leaped into his throat and then plunged to the bottom of his stomach in a split second. It couldn't be him, no way. "Oh really," he asked teasingly. "Who is it now?"

Draco made his way over to where Harry sat. Gingerly, he perched on the side of the bed, only a foot or two away from Harry. He seemed to hesitate for a second until finally replied quietly,

"You." Draco wouldn't meet Harry's eyes, and his usually pale face was redder than Harry had ever seen it. "Of course I understand if you don't... I only thought that maybe... But if you really..." Draco screwed his eyes shut and covered them with his hand.

Harry sat there for a few seconds, mouth hanging open a little, trying to process this. Was Draco _really_ in love with him? Was this some sort of a sick joke?

But then he studied Draco, really looked at him. It couldn't be, Harry decided. Even Draco Malfoy wasn't good enough at acting to pull this off so convincingly. Harry took a chance and turned Draco's face toward him, which seemed to surprise the blond. Harry's mind felt like it was alive with static electricity as he gently kissed Draco.

It soon became more passionate. When they broke apart they kept their foreheads touching so their noses brushed against each other. Against Draco's lips, Harry mumbled, " _I love you, too._ "


End file.
